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Greetings and Propaganda!

Nothing to see here. Seriously.

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*Plot*

Removed, this rp is dead, Move along.
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Rules!
Be familiar with WWII History, or Wolfenstein, atleast. And pelase make sure you are an experianced roleplayer before attempting to join.

1. Gaian ToS apply.

2. No godmoding, and be realistic for the setting. This is the 1930's-1940's, and we're all human here...except the zombies. But even zombies have limitations.

3. Keep all romance to a bare minimun. This is war, not a chickflick.

4. Not everyone can be a Nazi or a Communist, we need other characters. And not everyone can be a General or leader, either.

5. Multiple characters are required, also you need to post as often as possible, or your characters will be kileld off or left behind. I'm tired of NPCing characters constantly. (Or you can atleast give us a warning prior to your absence, and we'll try to keep the character alive.) We also need plenty of NPC characters.

6. All OOC comments are to be kept on topic and in brackets.
ie.(), {}, or []'s

7. All posts are to be made in third person and read in third person.This is also a literate rp. Also, you are to be aware of what's going on.
Try to avoid one-line posts, and typos, please. But they happen to us all, so try not to do it too often.

8.*zombies!* You have limited Mobility and Speed, but enhanced indurance. Certain classes of zombies maintain limited speech, slight intelligence as well, and can handle two-handed guns...but these are on special circumstances(ie. experimentation at a POW camp) and are very limited in supply.

9. Please post your location. In an rp of this scale, knowing who is where and when they're there helps. (This RP spans most of Europe and Russia, dearies.)

10. This may be an RP with Nazis, but keep the racial-slurs at a minimum or you will be punished for harrassment and reported.

11. Due to the large area of this rp, it's not nessicary to post everyday unless the people you are playing with are. It helps avoid character lock. But as said before, this is a fairly slow moving rp. But please besure to check back even when not posting. It helps you keep informed and catch when your allies or enemies are making a move.

12. Failure to comply with the rules results in character death and banishment from the rp. Thread Authors have the right to refuse or accept applications. You have been warned.

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Profile template.
Don't bother applying, this RP's dead. Why don't you find another one?

Name:
Age:
Nationality:
Sex:
Phy. Des.:
Rank (if military):
Skills:
*Equipment:
Short Bio.:

*Note: This is WWII, not all of your favorite guns are availiable. If this is the case, then you will be issued guns that fit into the rp's time setting.
Player Profiles
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((Alright guys...let's get this party started...again. Picking up where we left off! The newer people aren't misisng much sicne we're still at the beginning.))

*Death Camp, F Block*
Sleeping was out of the question. Cramped, uncomfortable, and cold, Feliks stared toward the bars at the German guards.
From the time he entered the camp, to the time they had stripped him of his identity and given him a number tattoo, Feliks was taking count. There were atleast five prisoners for every two guards. However the guards were in the best shape of their lives...the POWs were another story. And he was a little unhappy the Indian had nothing to say to him. It was his idea to camp out. He said we were safe. The young man thought bitterly and listened to the muffled conversations of his fellow prisoners. Most seemed to know each other...and most were Jewish.
He couldn't blame Jacob...but the Indian could have, atleast, replied.

*Death Camp, Labs*
Nikolai was vaugely aware of things. The pain was deadened by the fact that Nikolai's brain was ceasing to function properly. He couldn't feel anything. The lights were too bright to see, and the things he could see seemed to be covered in layers of black fuzz. A few times he laughed or said something, thinking his friend Feliks was nearby. The reply was always in a harsh German voice. Funny, Feliks didn't like to speak German, and Feliks didn't sound like that.
"Shut him up!Get to work!"
Jacob was cold. He could feel his blood slowing as he sat alone on the stone floor. WIth a sigh, he knew he would either move, and cause the gaurds attention to go with him, or he would die. He trembled as he stood, his blood thick in his veins. Making his way slowly over to Felix. He sat down next to him. Gently setting his large frame down. The ever present voice in his head.

Come on Jacob. You could have lasted longer over there. Now what will you do? Sleep? Your a disgrace.

Jacob muttered under his breath. "Mind if I join you gents on this fine day?" He smirked over at Felix. Wishing he could apologize for their capture.
Location: Death Camp, F Block

The beds were tiny and hard, inside it was freezing. Still Ivan lied on the bed trying not to listen to voices. He thought about his current situation, he lost all hope. Very unusual for the sergeant. Ivan closed his eyes and fell into deep sleep.
Death Camp, D Block ((Everywhere we go-o! People wanna kno-ow! Who we a-are! So, we tell them! This is D-Block! Mighty, Mighty D-Block!))

Sasha wasn't sure why they transferred him from his original block, but now he was in a 'dorm' where he knew no one, and probably didn't speak Russian either. He sighed and stared at the dirty ceiling.
*Death Camp, F Block*

Rubbing his hands over his arms in attempts to keep warm, Feliks shook his head. He didn't mind a bit. His thoughts were more on Sasha's disseaperance, and Nikolai. "It's a fine day...if you're in their shoes." He said, cutting a glance toward the German guard when he walked past, and speaking in Russian so they wouldn't understand him.
The other prisoners had fallen silent. They knew the routine of speaking non-german languages when a guard walked post.
This guard didn't seem to pay any attention to Feliks, nor did he make any move to flick something at Jacob for cruel fun. He merely glanced into the barracks through the barred window, and went on his way.
He smiled wryly. Apperently whatever was coming, was coming quickly. The guards seemed wary to intereact with the prisoners. Even him.

Are you ready to die Jacob? are you ready to feel your blood slow. And Chill? Death. Get Ready Jacob...

He turned to Felix. "Perhaps, we should ready ourselves. They seem...unsettled." Though he spoke in English. He doubted the Germans understood.
*Death camp, F Block barracks*
"Or they have even more new arrivals to end to." Feliks said, looking at the barred window, trying to see the guard. The German had already dissapeared from sight.
Rubbing his arms once again, the young man shook his head. "I'm worried about Nikolai and Lieutenant Colonel Chabanov...they are doing terrible things to them, I know it."
*Death Camp, F Block Bunkroom*

"I can understand your concern. But until we are out of this cell. I am afraid there is nothing we can do to aid them" Jacob was speaking in a level tone, hoping the unfamiliar language and the steady tak would not hint to the gaurds he was talking about escape, right here in front of them.

Go on Jacob. Tell them everything. Let everyone know your going to try to get out. They can all hear you Jacob. They can all hear....
*Death Camp, Block F Barracks*
Things were quite. It seemed that the guards were switching out for the late-hour watch.
The disinterested nazi passed by the window two more times ebfore he was replaced by a heavy-set, brutish looking man with a thick mustache and a cruel look in his eyes. Whenever he passed by the window, Feliks would fall silent.
"Silence! Don't make me come in there and crack some worthless skulls!"
Sighing, Feliks gave up trying to stay warm. "If I had atleast one sharp object...I'd attack the next guard and die in vain attempts to escape instead of wasting away or dying like the facists expect us to."
*Death Camp, Cellblock F, still in the bunkhouse*

"And you would die, just as you said. In vain. If we wait, and observe. It is possible we can make something more of our death then just vainity." He smiled, the almost pun amusing him. "If they die. They walk amung us. They strengthen us and make us an agent of their wrath."
*Death camp, F Block*
Feliks stared at Jacob blankly. His limited grasp of the English language left him with a faint understanding of what the Indian had just said.
These Native Americans, as they call them, are crazy. he thought to himself.
D Block

Laying there, minding his own business, Sasha gave up on trying. Perhaps it was lack of food, but he didn't feel like doing anything.
Then, a man walked up to him and spoke in his native language.
"You are Russian?" He asked.
Sasha nodded a bit.
"Me too," the man said with enthusiasm, "I'm Sergei Kachurayev. I haven't spoken to anyone in weeks. Nothing to say until now."

Sasha didn't make any kinds of facial expressions he glanced over at the man and said, "I'm Sasha. Glad to meet you."
Sergei nodded when a crazy German man marched into the room and yelled something out. Everyone got up and walked out of the room in a single file.
The german man walked up to Sasha, who didn't move, and yelled at him. Sasha looked at him and didn't move still. The man smacked Sasha with the butt of his luger. Sasha tasted blood in his mouth. he, then figured that it would be best to co-operate for now. He got up off his bed and followed the line. Presumably for forced labor.
*Death camp, F Block*

Almost asleep, Feliks and a dozen other prisoners were shocked into wakefulness when the heavy-set guard kicked open the door and stormed in with his rifle. "Get up, lazy dogs! You're going to do some work for once in your miserable lives! Move!"
He and the other guards roughly guided the prisoners out, not sparing many from slaps to the back of the head or hard jabs from the rifle barrel.

Frauke was waiting outside, Rain dripping from her helment as she watched the men, the uniform's over coat and helment made her look like a rather feminine young man. And that's what everyone took her for. " The furnaces need cleaning. You, you, you, and you. Come with me!"
Shoved forward, Feliks was among the group that had been selected. He glanced back at Jacob before being shoved again. Stumbling forward, Feliks practically scrambled to keep from being pushed again and to keep up with the other men. His eyes were on Frauke's rifle.

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